Brace Yourself
by Orchid Falls
Summary: It's always in the library and Leo has his reserations. Elliot, on the other hand, doesn't.


**Brace Yourself**

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><p>The thing that gets Leo is that it's always in the library.<p>

Normal people, people that Leo reads about anyway (he could never consider Nightray's normal and whilst the Duke and Duchess must have at some point in the past, and quite a lot, Leo _really_ didn't like to think about it) did it in the privacy of their own rooms; silken sheets and warm bed linens that got tangled around legs and wrapped around calves, heavy drapes that shut out prying eyes and lit the room in a warm golden glow and gave everything a romantic candlelit look. And okay, maybe sometimes if the mood overtook them, things got a little frisky in an office or study, but then that at least had the privacy of a locked door and the slim chance that nobody would come knocking.

"Are you going to carry this on for much longer?"

Elliot shifts from above him then, moving his leg from its previous place of in between Leo's thighs and his mouth from its spot on Leo's collarbone, and sitting back.

The sad thing is Leo hadn't realised he'd been saying all of that out loud.

Elliot looks at him pointedly, eyes widening in wonder, his lips red and swollen - and out of everything that's the part that makes Leo wish he could keep his mouth shut.

"It's just kind of distracting," Elliot continues, "the muttering." And Elliot can talk about distracting because he has no idea of the hold he _has_ over Leo; the way that he looks right now, his face all flushed, his hair dishevelled from having Leo's fingers run and pull through it, his mouth still slightly swollen from the earlier bout of kissing before things had taken to the floor.

But Leo has a point too, they've been caught at it before, hidden amongst the bookshelves, hands all over each other and tongues making quick work over every inch of skin available – only to have Vincent of all people walk in and casually take a book from above Leo's head as if they weren't stood there in a state of undress and in between palming each other - a quick smirk hovering over his lips as he'd advised them to take it into a less popular section of the Nightray library, like the gardening aisle or the cooking section; somewhere no member of the Nightray house was ever likely to be found. Echo standing dully at his side with deadened eyes that Leo was sure contained a huge amount of mockery.

It had been a month before he could look either of them in the eye again without turning a particularly bright shade of beetroot red.

And Vincent hadn't been that bad compared to the time they'd almost been caught by Duke Nightray, who'd had an impromptu meeting with some of his advisers and taken it in the library of all places, one aisle away from Elliot and Leo, who'd had his shirt thrown to the floor some way away (on the other side of the Duke, of course) and at the time had had Elliot's calloused fingers pawing at his skin like he was trying to map his way into him.

They'd spent a couple of hours hunched down and praying nobody came their way or saw any sight of them. Elliot's jacket thrown over his shoulders to stop the shivering, his mouth tantalisingly close to Leo's ear so that every time he breathed or whispered, Leo had felt his heart throb and his stomach flush with heat in a really inappropriate way with Elliot's Father just a few feet in front of them. His fingers pinching his thigh as he tried to remind himself that no matter what certain parts of him were thinking, leaping on top of Elliot there and then really wasn't worth losing his job, his home, or his life even.

"I have a point though, right?" Leo says as he pushes himself up onto his elbows and squints at Elliot - because his glasses are around here somewhere, at least they were a couple of minutes ago.

Elliot moves, stretching around behind Leo's head so that the barest sliver of pale skin peeks out from beneath his untucked shirt, and comes back with a pair of glasses, fingers carefully holding the rim so that the glass doesn't smudge.

"Here," he says with a hum that makes his throat bob up and down and kind of makes Leo want to press his mouth against his neck and taste him. Leo takes them from his hands, shoving aside his hair and placing them back before his eyes, bringing everything back into clear vision; strictly speaking his eyesight isn't that bad, but it's not perfect either and having spent years wearing the things now, he feels a little bit lost without.

"Maybe," Elliot answers, tucking his legs up underneath him, eyes rolling to the side and a slight smirk crossing his lips. Leo knows he's thinking about that one time with Vanessa: the time they were supposedly studying for some history topic for Latowidge, books cracked open on the table and pens and paper scattered everywhere, the heavy scent of dust lying thick over everything it touched.

Vanessa had stormed into their study session just the same way that she stormed everywhere else; always like she was on a mission, long legs striding around and coat flapping wildly behind her, Hans doggedly trying to keep by her side. And Elliot had taken her up in conversation, smiling in all the right places and mildly complaining about the amount of work he was going to have to complete before the end of term, all the while his hand was pressing down on the front of Leo's trousers beneath the table in a way that was making it really hard to concentrate on what they were saying, never mind his work; as he tried his best to minimise the squeaking and panting noises that seemed to be coming out of his mouth.

As a result Hans always gave him the fish-eye now whenever they passed in the corridor, a stare that always says _I know just what you're doing_. Like he was one to talk, everyone knew he'd give anything he could to get Vanessa out of her stockings and laid out flat on her back at the first opportunity he could.

"I think it's kind of fun," Elliot says and the smirk is full on now, all cat that got the canary and soaked it in cream and then batted it around a bit, just for the hell of it. His pupils wide in his eyes and eyelashes flickering, the forming of a plan rattling around in there that Leo is sure will cause him no amount of pure misery in the long run.

"You would," Leo responds, sniffing indignantly, or as indignantly as one can when they're lying on their back on a library floor with their shirt pushed half way up their body.

Elliot sighs and then laughs, the corner of his lips crinkling up and disappearing into the whites of his teeth. "It makes it all that much more interesting, don't you think?" Then he's pushing himself forward and his hand is flat against Leo's chest, pushing him back down to the tiles without so much as a warning, the cool floor against his back making Leo shiver. Elliot's free hand grabbing a fistful of Leo's shirt and pulling it up, like he's trying to get the damn thing off and forgotten it's still partially buttoned, and in taking too much time he's decided it'd just be easier to rip the thing in two.

Leo would protest, in fact he tries, but it's nothing more than a squeak of air that escapes his throat before Elliot's mouth is flat on his, his tongue pushing its way past his lips and unfurling into his mouth.

At this point Leo's mind shuts up and his body takes over, one hand moving down to press against the natural dip in Elliot's lower back, the point that's showing now just as his dress shirt hikes up; warm skin that if Leo presses his thumb against and drags his nail over makes Elliot moan into his mouth and the sound to vibrate everywhere down through Leo's nerve endings. It makes him push into Leo too, hips rolling over and into Leo's, knees slapping down hard onto the ground either side of him.

He stops the kiss then, tucking his head into the crook of Leo's neck and licking a stripe across his collarbone as he drags his teeth along and back up to his jaw. "The thought that-" he says, and his voice is breathy now, his mouth pressing kisses up and down across Leo's cheekbone, "anybody could-" his fingers tighten on the span of Leo's hip, nails pressing down and making Leo arc into him, "walk in at any moment."

There's nothing but the wet smack of an open-mouthed kiss, and the pounding of Leo's blood flowing through his body. He can feel Elliot's heart beat just as fast, pausing for just a second as he angles his arms and twists around his torso until he can manage to discard his own shirt, throwing it away in a crumbled mess at the side of them. Then he's back down, teeth biting at Leo's bottom lip, skin to skin, his chest warm and ribs pressing tight against him.

In all honesty Leo can't form any kind of complete sentence to argue Elliot's point, partly because his mouth is far too busy enjoying the warmth of Elliot's own and partly because Elliot's fingers are sliding down below the waist line of his pants, fingers moving and catching at skin that is far too sensitive to allow any other thought than, _oh god, Elliot! _His own fingers tangling in Elliot's hair and pulling him down, closer towards him, his voice bitten off as it fails to get past his heart thumping away fast in his chest.

They're not exactly quiet about it, but Elliot is hot and heavy over him, settled low in the cradle of his hips, and at some point he's lost his glasses again, but when all he can see is pale, browned skin and hair that tickles his cheeks and Elliot's mouth red and wet and completely his for the taking, none of the rest of it seems to matter.

Elliot's hands take complete control over his body, right down to the way that his breath stutters in and out of him, his nails dragging down the pale skin of his chest that makes Leo naturally arc up into him, his mouth catching at Elliot's and swallowing the keening growl that comes out of his throat.

And suddenly Leo can't remember why he even felt the need to protest against this; Elliot a warm solid weight over him, his voice low and throaty when he speaks, his eyes bright and mouth hot touching his neck and his throat and his mouth. His heart beating solidly right alongside his own as Leo bites down hard on his lips and feels his body start to tremble at every touch of Elliot's warm hands and fingers and mouth.

No really, Leo can't remember why he felt the need to protest going at it in the library at all.

**End.**

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><p>As always, comments and crit are lovingly welcomed.<p> 


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